


You Always Fit Here In My Arms

by TjLockticon



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Family, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Sad with a Happy Ending, Shorthalts need more love, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-05-30 03:50:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6407605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TjLockticon/pseuds/TjLockticon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She said she'd come back. And right when he's not expecting it, she does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Always Fit Here In My Arms

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place at some vague point after episode 41. In which Vox Machina tries to cope with Emon's destruction, bodies are still being pulled from the rubble, and Scanlan prays that one of them isn't his newly discovered daughter.
> 
> Slight timeline futzing and Scanlan angst.

     He thought of her when they were running, dragons chasing them on rooftops as they sprinted for the tree. He thought of her when he grabbed Pike to Dimension Door them away from the group, when they waited as the rest of Vox Machina caught up. He thought of her when the white dragon attacked their keep, and he thought of her as people spilled in through their doors seeking shelter.

 

     He made sure to check every face on every body small enough as they passed by, just in case - just in case.

 

    He didn't want to go back, at first. Didn't want to maybe, _maybe_ , see a small gnome body crushed by rubble, charred by fire, or maybe frozen stiff with a scream on her lips. He wanted so badly to hold her again, but not if... not if she was cold, not if there was no heartbeat in her chest.

 

    He thought of her every day, every minute, every damn _second_.

 

    He hadn't known she even _existed_ a week ago. Now, gods help him, he didn't know what he wouldn't give just to know if she was okay.

 

\--------------------

 

    Finding Gilmore nearly dead in the rubble of his shop was the first thing that drew the fear out of Scanlan, laid the seed of panic and horror in his head. He kept his mouth shut and joined his friends when they breathed that sigh of relief as Pike healed the gaping wound in the wizard's side. He tried to lighten the mood, asking if Gilmore was a dragon - and wouldn't _that_ have helped this shitfest? - but his words felt a little more hollow than usual.

 

    She could be somewhere, half buried like Gilmore, with no one looking for her.

 

    He didn't laugh again that day.

 

\--------------------

 

    Was he supposed to just feel _numb_ when the wyverns attacked and he was so very nearly knocked unconscious?

 

\--------------------

 

    "Should we go to Whitestone? We're not much use here anymore, I think."

 

    "Look, I trust that the Clasp isn't going to ally with the dragons, but that doesn't necessarily mean they'll try and help any of the people left in Emon. We should try and find as many survivors as we can, find people who haven't gone to grovel at the Cinderking's feet. We'll send them all to Whitestone, and we can spend a little more time thinking about our next move after that. I don't think the city can get any more destroyed than it already is, we could afford a little patience."

 

    "...I'm not good at patient."

 

    "We know, Grog. Scanlan? What do you think?"

 

    His answer should have been that they leave the city, go to Whitestone - or maybe steal that airship like Percy suggested - but his tongue was tied. He stood from the table slowly, knuckles curling on the wood, his eyes meeting none of theirs.

 

    "We should stay," he finally said, more quietly than usual.

 

    They debated it for another half an hour. He ducked out of the conversation before it was completed, but from the way it was going, he gathered they were planning to stay and search for other refugees, at least for a little while.

 

    Scanlan didn't come downstairs the next day.

 

\--------------------

 

     There was a knock on his door. Heavy and insistent, not at all what he'd been hoping to hear for _days_ now. His door shuddered again, and the gnome heard feet shuffle on the other side before a booming voice came through. "Hey, Scanlan??"

 

     Grog. Of course it was Grog. All the rest of their team - their _family_ \- stayed away when Scanlan asked for privacy, but the towering barbarian never was one for respecting boundaries. Still, Scanlan had a feeling that the goliath understood the gnome's predicament to some extent. The fact that Grog hadn't just come barging in and had actually _knocked_ told Scanlan as much.

 

      The despondent bard glanced at the door, slumped forward over the back of his chair, chin resting on his arms, eyes fixed on the wall. All his senses were focused on that one spot on his chest where that blade hit and didn't quite sink in. "What, Grog?"

 

     Hesitation sounded strange in Grog's deep voice, but Scanlan recognized it all the same. "You want to, uh, help look for people?" the goliath asked. "Maybe there's a pub still standing somewhere."

 

     Scanlan sighed. There weren't any pubs left in Emon, he was sure of it. He wasn't sure if Grog knew that, though. Or maybe the goliath was joking, trying to coax some reaction out of Scanlan. "No, Grog."

 

     "Well, uh... you sure you don't wanna come out?" It was as close as Grog gets to sounding worried.

 

     "I'm sure."

 

    Scanlan heard fading footsteps a moment later, and his dimly lit bedroom returned to silence. His eyes felt sore and dry from being held open for so long without blinking, and each time he went to rub them they burned like smoke was still swirling around him. It had been maybe half a week since the Chroma Conclave attacked, half a week since Emon's destruction, and while Vox Machina slowly tried to piece together a plan and smuggle survivors out of the city, the smell of death remained lodged in Scanlan's nose.

 

     _"Don't... don't come looking for me. I'll come back. When I'm ready."_

 

     Pixie brown hair, wry grin, sword in hand, ready to kill him... her arms around his body. His around hers.

 

     Another knock on the door. Softer this time, enough to get his hopes up-

 

     "Scanlan?"

 

     _Pike_. Scanlan felt his carefully constructed inner defenses crack just a little bit more.

 

     "Scanlan, can I come in?"

 

    He could stay silent. Or say no. The sweet cleric, love of his life - one of them, he thought, as pixie hair and a furious glare resurfaced in his head - would listen. She might argue a bit, might ask a second time, but she would respect his wishes and leave him alone. Scanlan pursed his lips, scratched the back of his neck, and fought with his decision for another minute before he heard her speak again.

 

    "Alright, if you want to talk, I'll... I'll be in the temple."

 

    The only way Scanlan could've possibly gotten to the door faster would've been if he used Dimension Door. He swung it open with as much force as his small, muscularly underdeveloped body could muster, startling the pale-blonde cleric who was beginning to walk away on the other side. At the sound of the door wrenching backwards on its hinges and at the sight of Scanlan nearly stumbling out into the hall, Pike jumped and sucked in a soft gasp.

 

    "Pike, don't..." Scanlan stammered. "Don't go."

 

    Pike bit her lip and scanned her eyes over the bard. Standing there in the light of the hallway, Scanlan realized he hadn't changed in days, and likely looked as disheveled as the displaced citizens Greyskull Keep had hosted when the dragons first attacked. "Scanlan," Pike said gently, "everyone's worried about you. Just now Grog told me I should check to see if you were okay."

 

    Couldn't she see he was anything _but_ okay? Oh, but she was Pike, of _course_ she could the dark circles under his eyes, the unkempt hair, the sagging shoulders. Surely she noticed his absent smile, the lack of clever quips and wisecracks. And by the sound of it, she wasn't the only one who'd noticed. Part of Scanlan felt relieved to know that in some way, the rest of Vox Machina missed him and his silver tongue, and another part only felt guilt for abandoning them as they searched the city for more refugees.

 

    Scanlan stepped to the side, leaning against the door and wordlessly gesturing for Pike to come in.

 

    He could see her squinting through the dim light in the room, and despite her being absent her armor and holy symbol, her presence seemed to fill Scanlan's room with a little more a soft blue glow. The bard wouldn't doubt it, of course, and slowly closed the door as Pike came to stand by his bed. As Scanlan lingered by the door, he saw Pike wring her hands anxiously.

 

    "Scanlan, I..." She sighed. "It's been two days. You should come downstairs. Have you even been eating?"

 

    She was worried for him. The barrier kept cracking, but Scanlan maintained a straight face. "I'm fine," he lied.

 

    Pike clearly doubted the truth in his words, but Scanlan had spent his whole life deceiving, manipulating - veiling his intent with fancy talk. "Vax thinks it would help if you... came down and did something to keep yourself busy. Help with the refugees, or search the city..."

 

    "What would I do? I'm just a tiny little boy who can't stealth for _shit_ ," Scanlan said with what he had _hoped_ would be a grin, but ended up more like a grimace.

 

    The cleric - beautiful, terrifying, perfect cleric - sat down on the edge of Scanlan's bed. She patted the spot beside her, and Scanlan made haste to come sit beside her. Talking alone with Pike was such a rare occasion, and were this any other time in his life he would be _far_ too excited by the prospect that they were alone together, in his room... but those impulses, the cornerstone of his scoundrel lifestyle, were so far from his mind right now he'd almost forgotten them entirely.

 

    Pike rested her hand on the bed between them, and Scanlan laid his over it, feeling the warmth of her skin, not meeting her eyes.

 

    "Scanlan," she said quietly, tenderly, "talk to me, _please_. Tell me what's wrong."

 

    He didn't mean for it to happen, but the barrier cracked all the way.

 

    "I-" Scanlan dragged his fingers through his bangs. "I don't know, Pike, I don't know where she is, or if she made it out of Emon before those fucking dragons attacked."

 

    Pike stiffened ever so slightly, and by the worried furrowing of her brow, Scanlan suspected that she had already guessed the source of his bitter mood. Now he had confirmed it to her, in a stream of desperately babbled words quite different from the usual wit and charm the bard employed. He felt her hand move, and for a moment her worried she might pull away, but he felt her gently tighten her grip on Scanlan's now-shaking hand.

 

    Scanlan's eyes, previously staring blankly into space, switched to Pike's face. There were no tears - of course not, he'd practiced keeping his emotions in check for _years_ \- but Pike's eyes widened all the same, probably in response to the redness that came with staring at a wall for hours on end. "I don't want to go back there, I don't want to pull bodies out of buildings, I _can't_ , not if one of them might be her," he whispered weakly.

 

    Pike pursed her lips, and there was a second where the only sound in the room was Scanlan's rushed, half-panicked breathing. "Scanlan," Pike said in a reassuring tone, taking his hand in both of hers now, "Kaylie, she - she's resourceful, and she's tough, if she's _anything_ like you. I'm sure - I'm sure she's fine, she probably wasn't even here in Emon when the dragons came."

 

    "She told me not to come looking for her," Scanlan murmured brokenly. "But I want to. Every day I want to go looking, but I don't want to find her if she's..."

 

    He didn't finish, and as his voice trailed off Pike leaned in and pressed a soothing kiss to the side of Scanlan's head. She didn't tell him that the keep had felt empty over the past weeks - especially so in the last two days, when Scanlan shut himself in his room and didn't say a word to any of them - and she didn't say that Vox Machina had been missing his smile, his jokes both terrible and clever, and his songs. Right now, she didn't think that was what Scanlan wanted to hear.

 

    Scanlan leaned into her kiss, still shaking as Pike pulled away and buried her forehead in his hair. She squeezed his hand again as he let out a sound that was half a ragged sigh, and half a muffled yawn.

 

    "You haven't been sleeping, have you?" Pike asked anxiously.

 

    Scanlan shook his head and slumped a little further towards her. She kept him steady, but slowly started shifting away, readying herself to leave. "You need rest, Scanlan," she whispered.

 

    "You're right," he sighed. "You're always right, sweet Pike..."

 

    As the cleric slowly stood from the bed, Scanlan managed to sit upright again and hold onto her wrist. He looked at her with pleading eyes and said, "Pike, could you... ask Sarenrae to keep an eye out for Kaylie? I would ask, but I don't think she'll listen to someone like me."

 

    Pike's lips curved into a faint smile. She returned the gently squeeze to Scanlan's hand and let him slump down onto his bed, promising softly, "I'll ask her. Now get some rest."

 

    "...thank you, Pike."

 

    "You're welcome, Scanlan."

 

\--------------------

 

    Another day passed. Laina was the one who saw Scanlan first when he trudged out of his room to dig through the kitchen, evidently not wanting to bother any of Vox Machina's servants, or any of Vox Machina for that matter. She hurriedly whispered to Erwin to inform the other keep masters that their friend had finally emerged from his isolation. Vex and Percy reacted first, coming to the kitchen in the hope of finding their bard, but by the time they arrived, he was gone again.

 

    Percy checked Scanlan's room, finding it empty.

 

    "He better not have gone off on his own," Vex muttered, recalling all the times her brother or Grog charged off recklessly only to get their asses handed to them. "Maybe he went to the temple?"

 

    "Here's hoping," Percy agreed with sigh.

 

     While it had been a reasonable assumption on their part, Scanlan, after leaving the kitchen with a small handful of fruit, had instead headed straight for the gardens outside. Squinting against the sunlight that he hadn't seen in days, he gnawed noncommittally on an apple while skirting the edge of the wall in the hopes of avoiding any of the keep's guards who might have been put on the lookout for him by conspiring party members. Being that it was just past noon, there was a strong likelihood that the person he wanted to talk to was gone from the keep, tending to business with the rest of Vox Machina.

 

    But sure enough, there she was - red hair tied back, sparks of magic curling around her fingers as she tended to the roses her garden.

 

    "Keyleth?"

 

    The druid startled, her magic fizzling out as she rounded on the approaching gnome. As soon as she laid eyes upon him, her startled expression turned to shock, then relief. She ran towards him, and Scanlan had to brace against the impact as she slid down to her knees in the dirt and hugged the bard tight enough to push the air from his lungs. Pulling back, she swept her eyes over him and breathed out, "Scanlan, everyone's been worried, Pike told us that you haven't been sleeping, she said you - you were worried about Kaya - Kaylie?? Your daughter, she told us you didn't want to go back to Emon because of your daughter..."

 

    Scanlan managed an apologetic grin. "If... if I caused you and the others any distress, I _am_ sorry." Silver tongue halfway returned, it seemed. One positive development, at least. "Keyleth, I... I wanted to ask a favor of you."

 

    The druid nodded, smiling that innocent smile. "Of course, Scanlan."

 

    Oh, how a younger Scanlan would've teased and mocked, making lewd suggestions at Keyleth's eagerness to help him. Gesturing at the flowers around her and the glancing in the general direction of the ground, Scanlan asked, "Keyleth, could you... could you do that plant talking thing, and see if Kaylie is somewhere in the city??"

 

    Surprised for a moment, Keyleth gathered her senses quickly, and sent a determined look Scanlan's way before her eyes glazed over with a faint glow. Scanlan took a wary step back as Keyleth sat cross-legged on the ground, fingers twitching with nature energy. He could see the plants around her bend in her direction ever so slightly, and for the first time in a couple weeks, Scanlan felt a strange sense of... peace? Comfort? Whatever it was, he was glad it was there.

 

    He waited nervously for for several minutes, watching Keyleth's lips move without making a sound.

 

    When she finally dropped the spell, and her eyes returned to normal, Scanlan felt a stir of hope inside his chest. It withered, however, when Keyleth's face sobered into a frown. She stood up from the ground, dusted herself off, and said with a faint crack in her voice, "I'm sorry, I didn't... I didn't sense her anywhere." Before Scanlan could get a word in edgewise, the druid quickly added, "But that just means she's out of my range! Your old troupe, they left before the Chroma Conclave attacked, she's probably fine."

 

    Probably. But Scanlan had to be sure. Kaylie was his blood, his only living relative as far as he knew, his daughter. He'd only just found her, and then she'd left again. He didn't want their last encounter to be the last time he ever saw her. He might just hate himself for the rest of his life if that happened. He wanted so badly to make things right with her, to try and make up for not being there for her all her life...

 

    "Thank you, Keyleth," Scanlan said quietly, turning to leave.

 

    "Scanlan, wait!" Keyleth placed a hand on the gnome's shoulder, halting him mid-step. "Don't disappear again. Vex and Percy are here, Vax, Grog, and Pike will be back soon... stay with us. _Talk_ to us. We're your friends, we care about you, and you don't have to go through this alone."

 

    For the first time in days, Keyleth saw Scanlan smile. It lasted for a moment before it turned into a sigh, but it came back. For a heartbeat, Vox Machina's charming scoundrel of a bard came back.

 

    It was a start, at least.

 

\--------------------

 

    Gods help the poor bard, even _Trinket_ had missed him. He felt something akin to a mild heart attack when the bear came loping towards him when Vex and Percy figured out where he had gone off to after coming out of his bedroom. Scanlan was fully prepared to be crushed by the armored animal, but instead he felt only Trinket's tongue all over his face, licking him and coating him in saliva.

 

    He was _sure_ Vex had intended to be mad at him for not talking to them when he came downstairs or something along those lines, but through Trinket's horribly dense fur he could hear her laughing. Percy, too, though it was more of a tight-lipped snicker at Scanlan's expense.

 

    _Stupid bear,_ the gnome thought as Trinket pinned him down and covered him in sloppy kisses.

 

    But he didn't try to fight it. He laid with his back in the dirt and accepted Trinket's affection, and strangely enough, it was just the right distraction to get him laughing again.

 

\--------------------

 

    "Hey, uh, Vax, you're seeing that too, right?"

 

    "...Scanlan getting killed by my sister's bear?"

 

    "Scanlan _hugging_ your sister's bear."

 

    "I see it, Grog. Oh, our poor bard. He must've lost his mind sulking up in his room."

 

    Pike barely listened to her friends marveling at the sight greeting them in the courtyard as they walked through the keep gates, a handful of survivors in tow. She heard Scanlan laughing, and somewhat wheezing under Trinket's weight, and all she could do was smile knowing that Scanlan wasn't lost to them yet.

 

    If there was a little bit of love hidden in her smile as she gazed upon her fellow gnome, well, she could keep that to herself for now.

 

\--------------------

 

    Two more days. They went to Whitestone to deliver more refugees, and ended up spending a little time with Gilmore. The whole time, Vax'ildan acted like a mother hen, asking the wizard if he was feeling okay every other half an hour. Each time, Gilmore assured the rogue that Pike's healing spell has done its job perfectly. Scanlan, of course, expected nothing different. Pike's come back from death, after all, and slayed a skeleton army. She could probably find a way to turn Gilmore into a dragon.

 

    Well. Maybe not. But it was at least an entertaining idea, and it would be nice to have a dragon on Vox Machina's side for once.

 

    But when they came home, Scanlan's smile started to fade again.

 

    Their keep was so quiet. It had been so full of people a week ago, and before that... his old troupe.

 

    Scanlan sighed as Vox Machina entered the keep via Keyleth's garden and her tree-travel spell. He tried to keep it quiet so none of his party would notice, and for the most part it worked, with the exception of one white-haired human.

 

    "Scanlan," Percy said, catching the gnome off guard.

 

    "I'm not paying for your gun, I did you a favor getting rid of it!" Scanlan retorted reflexively.

 

    Percy pinched the bridge of his nose, lingering behind with the bard as the rest of Vox Machina headed into the keep. "Look, I don't want to talk about that right now - though we _will_ talk about it. I just." A sigh. "I know something about losing family. I just wanted to know if you're alright."

 

    Taken aback by the oddly compassionate words of the gunslinger, Scanlan tried to deflect, remarking, "The twins lost their mother, so did Keyleth. We're not a pair of special snowflakes."

 

    "What I _meant_ ," Percy interrupted, his voice now gaining back a bit of its colder tone, "is I understand what it's like to not know for certain if someone you deeply care about is alive or... not. And I just wanted to know how you were handling all of it. For the most part, you seem your usual self, but don't try to fool yourself into thinking that we don't... care about you. Because we _do_ , Scanlan. We may have our differences, but we are a team, a... a family, of sorts." Clearing his throat, Percy started walking away after the rest of the party, giving one last sympathetic look to the gnome. "I tried shouldering my burdens on my own in the past. And you know how well _that_ ended for me."

 

    Ending their brief conversation on that somber note, Percy turned and left Scanlan standing by the tree in Keyleth's garden. The bard didn't quite connect to the underlying meaning in Percy's words - that despite all the terrible things they'd endured, the man had _still_ been reunited with his sister - and his mind could only present the dark demon that had nearly claimed Percy's soul. He thought of Vex and Vax both nearly dying to the Briarwoods in different circumstances, of billowing smoke, of acid pouring into a trap. Cassandra abandoning Percy. Corpses lining the walls of the ziggurat.

 

    All Scanlan took away from Percy's words was a warning, and a plea that Scanlan open up to all of them before his fears consumed him.

 

    But the mere notion that _Scanlan Shorthalt,_ bard extraordinaire, fearless king-slayer, could sink to that depth??

 

    He lingered at the tree, suddenly stricken. Gods, how hollow those titles sounded now.

 

    He could smile and laugh and hope he was wrong, but the truth was Scanlan didn't know how far he'd fallen, or what it would take to get back up.

 

\--------------------

 

    Another day without a Scanlan song.

 

    "Maybe we should go looking for Dranzel and the rest of them?" Vax suggested that evening, keeping his voice low just in case a certain gnome wandered by.

 

    "Why?" Grog grunted from his half-empty plate.

 

    Vax glowered at the goliath. "To find Scanlan's daughter, you daft idiot."

 

    "Oh. Right." Grog looked pensive, or as pensive as the barbarian could get. "He's been... not Scanlan-y." His tattooed face wrinkled. "He's quiet. It's fucking _weird."_

 

    The half-elf rogue nodded. " _Weird_ is one way to put it. I'm just... worried that if we don't find some way to put his mind at ease, we might never get our bard back. And there is a part of me that would miss him. _Does_ miss him."

 

    "Pike could talk to him again," Grog mumbled through a mouthful of beef.

 

    Vax frowned. "Even _Pike_ might not be able to salvage this one."

 

    The proposition that their beloved cleric might not be enough to solve their problem stilled the goliath. Slouching into his chair, Vax craned his neck back and stared up at the ceiling, issuing yet another of the many sighs he had expressed over the past days. Emon had fallen into a numbing quiet in the wake of the dragon attack, and many of the citizens had gone into the Cinderking's service in the hope of protecting their own lives. What few resilient survivors remained, Vox Machina rescued, and sent to safety in Whitestone.

 

    It was a strange, disorienting kind of calm - a rhythm they'd grown used to over the last week. Creeping through the city ruins, clashing with new followers of the Chroma Conclave, sneaking people to Greyskull Keep in the early morning or late afternoon... Vax yearned for the stillness to break. Going beyond Emon's walls, searching the wilderness and the roads for any sign of Scanlan's daughter, would provide just that break. And if a search of the forests led them to Kaylie, well, Vax was sure Scanlan wouldn't complain.

 

    "Better talk to Vex and Keyleth about it first," Grog muttered, "they don't want us disappearing on our own."

 

    By 'us', Vax assumed his sister really meant _him._ Which was fair.

 

    "I'll guess we can talk to them in the morning about it..." Vax sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing his hand over his face.

 

    "And Scanlan."

 

    Vax nodded. "And Scanlan."

 

\--------------------

 

    They found nothing for most of the day when they searched the roads leading away from Emon.

 

    Then the search party - Vax, Grog, Keyleth, and a hesitant Scanlan coerced into the search only by a very long _talk_ with Pike - found scraps of tent cloth, a scattered campfire, and shards of ice. Breath clutched in their lungs, they ventured further down the road only to find a frozen member of Dr. Dranzel's Spectacular Traveling Troupe. Grog kept Scanlan behind, and after a minute or two of thawing the ice chunk, Keyleth found the troupe's drummer Zedd. Or half of him, at least.

 

    All three of them noticed Scanlan's shoulders sag, and heard the shuddering sigh of relief that he tried so hard to hide. Then the bard straightened up and spent a short time looking upon the frozen human. After trying to make some witty and ill-timed remark about the short lifespans of Dranzel's drummers - as Scanlan would be wont to do - the gnome gave up and started walking back towards Emon, shouldering his way past Vax'ildan and not saying a word to any of his friends.

 

    Keyleth reached out towards Scanlan's shoulder as he brushed past, but a hand on her own arm stilled her. She looked up to find Grog shaking his head.

 

    "Leave him be."

 

    The druid looked desperate. "But - but this is - this is good! Kaylie isn't here, she probably got away-"

 

    _"Kiki,"_ Vax said gently, "not now."

 

    Keyleth visibly struggled, but in the end she held her tongue. Vax twined his fingers with hers to keep her steady as they followed Scanlan, and Grog kept a watchful eye on the sky overhead, just in case any dragons or wyverns felt like passing by.

 

    They trudged back to Greyskull Keep in silence.

 

\---------------------

 

    Another day. Scanlan's arms felt increasingly empty, his chest increasingly hollow.

 

    To keep the gnawing emptiness at bay, he joined Vex and Grog and Trinket on a search through Emon, seeing the city for the first time in over a week. Vax and Pike and Keyleth headed off in a different direction, keeping to the shadows. Scanlan did his best to keep up this time, and manages to avoid attracting the attention of the strange wyverns seemingly keeping guard over parts of the demolished city.

 

    This time, they found no survivors, thought Vex did happen across a scattered sum of gold. Keyleth voiced her concern about collecting it, but the half-elf ranger went ahead and gathered it anyway, justifying that it was probably just left behind by looters hoping to appease the Cinderking with their offerings. About sixty-two gold pieces later, Scanlan felt a prickling on the back of his neck.

 

    "Vex!" he hissed from beneath an overturned cart as wyvern wingbeats thudded closer.

 

    She spent a second glancing up at the sky, then dragged Keyleth with her into the half-burned shelter of a house. There was a moment where Scanlan could breathe, mostly confident that their hiding spots were good enough, before he heard a muffled squeak from Vex across the street, and he realized in horror that Trinket was still very much out in the open, grunting and looking in Vex's direction plaintively.

 

    The wyvern's shadow came around a corner of an intersecting street. Scanlan's fingers twitched, Lightning Bolt ready to fire the moment the wyvern came into view...

 

    Keyleth's quick thinking saved them. There was a momentary flash, and then Trinket's form vanished, replaced instead by a tiny black kitten. Scanlan could barely see the polymorphed bear, and thankfully, the wyvern didn't see Trinket, either. It passed overhead, and when they were relatively sure that it wouldn't circle back, Vex and Keyleth emerged from the charred house, and Scanlan slowly moved away from the cart to meet them.

 

    "Ohhhh, Trinket..." Vex whimpered, pursing her lip as she gathered the confused kitten to her chest.

 

    Scanlan bit his tongue and kept himself from voicing once again how useless Trinket was, how the bear was always a problem... if Keyleth had been any slower, Trinket could've been spotted, and maybe killed in the following conflict, and then Vex would lose someone she loved almost as fiercely as she loved her twin. And right now, Scanlan couldn't stomach the thought of Vex suffering like that.

 

    "We should leave," he croaked. He didn't mention the small shape he'd seen dart down an alleyway fifteen minutes ago, didn't mention that it looked just a little bit gnomish, didn't mention that it had taken all of his resolve to not go chasing after it. It wasn't safe out in the open, and they'd toyed with fate enough for one day. No more close calls, just the fastest path back to the keep.

 

    They met up with the others at the false outhouse. In the dark tunnel, Scanlan's eyes swam with images of pixie hair, freckles, bruises on cheeks, wry grins on lips. Hatred. Hope. Narrowed eyes, and a trembling hand clutching a steel blade. A glittering laugh. All parts of a whole that Scanlan could never have imagined he would miss so fiercely. Where did all those things belong, if not safe in Scanlan's arms? He knew he didn't deserve it, but he'd never wanted anything more.

 

    He asked Pike to pray to Sarenrae again as soon as they got home.

 

\--------------------

 

    Scanlan woke in a cold sweat, one hand clutching his chest where Kaylie had tried to stab him. As his ragged breathing evened out, he felt the crawling sensation on his spine subside, and he curled inward. The last time he had nightmares this intense, he'd been reliving memories of his mother, her screaming his name, him fighting desperately, _uselessly_ , against the goblins that took her life-

 

    The gnome's teeth chattered against each other as he shivered in the darkness.

 

    _Kaylie dangling from the Cinderking's jaws._

 

_Kaylie forever trapped in ice._

 

_Kaylie choking on a poison cloud._

 

_Kaylie crushed beneath a pile of stone._

 

Scanlan didn't sleep again that night.

 

\--------------------

 

   Vex'ahlia had been on her way up to Scanlan's room, hoping to coax him out on behalf of Pike - who was busy tending to the latest group of five refugees, or else would have come up herself - when she was halted by a sound trailing out into the hall from the bard's room. For a moment, she didn't recognize the halfhearted song he was playing on his flute, but in time she remembered it. It was the song he'd played when he flute-dueled Kaylie in the bar.

 

    The ranger had never heard Scanlan falter while playing before, but he did. Several times. She heard a hiss of annoyance, and she lingered outside the gnome's door as he tried once again to pick up after an unsteady note. Sharp wheezing more than music issued from the flute, and finally Vex heard a sudden clattering sound like wood hitting the keep's stone floor. A grating sigh from Scanlan followed the sound, and then the room went silent.

 

    Vex leaned heavily against the wall, and then turned and retreated down the hall without alerting Scanlan to her presence.

 

    She had to talk to her brother, or Pike, or Keyleth. They needed to do something about Scanlan. No matter how annoying the gnome could get at times with his inappropriate commentary or his crude behavior, Vex cared deeply for him. He was of more value to the party than he realized, she thought, despite all his posturing about being their leader and such. And his jokes, his songs, his quick wit - she'd started missing it over the past week.

 

    Sometimes - most of the time - he seemed fine. Sometimes he smiled, even laughed, though not quite how he used to. It was when he slunk off alone that they really noticed the hollow feeling in the keep. Scanlan's friends all felt his aching misery, and it was getting worse by the day.

 

    The problem was, they all knew _exactly_ who could bring Scanlan out of this rut he'd collapsed into, and none of them had any idea of how to find her.

 

\----------------------

 

     "...we need to go to Vasselheim," were the first quiet words out of Percy's mouth at the breakfast table one morning, barely two weeks after the attack by the Chroma Conclave.

 

     Scanlan hadn't joined them yet, but every other member of Vox Machina was present, sullenly prodding their food - or ravenously consuming it, in the case of Grog and Trinket. The twins exchanged a worried glance while Keyleth sat in silence, staring at her plate. They'd all discussed this over the last few days, stumbling around the prospect of leaving, none of them quiet willing to say the words out loud. Until now.

 

    Pike was the one who spoke first, her eyes locked on the gunslinger.

 

    "We can't," she said.

 

    Percy dragged his fingers through his hair and sighed heavily. Resting both elbows on the table, he gave the cleric a pleading look. "We've gotten most of the survivors we've found to Whitestone, and I honestly don't know what else we can do here. Vasselheim has fighters, it has the Slayer's Take. We have allies there. We could find Kima, I'm sure her people know some way to deal with dragons. All I know is we won't get anything done if we stay here. We've tried everything. Now I think we need to try this instead."

 

    "I..." Keyleth began uncertainly as Pike stared at Percy with wide, disbelieving eyes. "Pike, I don't... I don't want to give up. But... I agree with Percy." Her voice cracked. "We can't do anything else here."

 

    Vex sagged forward onto the table, burying her face in her arms, uttering a barely audible sigh of frustration. Grog was only just now starting to pay attention, egg still smeared on his face. "You think Kima's people can help?" he asked, seemingly excited by the prospect of seeing the halfling paladin again.

 

    "Or the Take," Percy murmured. "Vasselheim has stood through the worst and always survived. Frankly, it's the only option we have right now."

 

    "We _can't,"_ Pike insisted, more firmly now.

 

    "Pike..." Vax said softly, pursing his lips. Pike's head snapped to him, tears brimming in her eyes, and the words faded from the rogue's tongue before they could be said.

 

    "We could still find Kaylie," Pike whispered. "I don't... we can't make Scanlan abandon her."

 

    "No, Pike," a new, uncharacteristically quiet voice said, "Percy's right."

 

    All heads turned to the door, where a gnome bard stood, leaning against the wall. Pike brushed her hand over her eyes, blotting away the tears before they could fall. In silence they looked at Scanlan, and he stared back at them, arms folded over his chests, shoulders slumped as if still exhausted. There were bags under his eyes, and no smile on his face. He stared straight at Pike.

 

    "We should go," he said tonelessly.

 

    "Scanlan-" Pike started. He held up his hand, and she went quiet. She could see it shaking in the air, even as Scanlan's eyes went to the floor.

 

    "Kaylie isn't coming back," he whispered. "She asked me not to look for her. So I won't." He lifted his head again, and looked with at Percy, who felt his cheeks flush with guilt. "Vasselheim. We need to go as soon as we can. Tomorrow, maybe; we send the rest of the refugees here to Whitestone, then go to Vasselheim," he suggested.

 

    "...you sure?" Vax asked softly.

 

    Scanlan nodded. The lack of emotion on his face was eerie.

 

    He didn't stay for breakfast. All the gnome did was turn away slowly, and retreat down the hallway. From where she sat beside her brother, Vex could see him slump against the wall for a moment before he picked himself up and kept going.

 

    Percy ground his palm into his face. "I'm sorry, I wish there was another way..."

 

    "It's okay, Percy," Pike murmured fatalistically. "We don't have a choice."

 

    No one else spoke for the rest of the meal.

 

\--------------------

 

    Grog could've sworn he heard muffled crying when he went past Scanlan's door that night.

 

    He almost knocked. He stood there for a while, shifting restlessly in the hallway, just listening.

 

    _"The weak weep,"_ a silken voice crawled through his head.

 

    The goliath narrowed his eyes and stepped away from the door. Glaring in the corner of his eye at the blade on his back, he growled, "Shut up."

 

    Obediently, the sword went silent, and Grog walked away from Scanlan's door.

 

\--------------------

 

    In the early morning the next day, before the sun had even properly risen over the horizon, Vex found herself up on the keep battlements, slouched over the wall with Jarrett keeping watch nearby. Silently she cursed Percy for suggesting they leave, Scanlan for giving up so easily, herself for feeling sour about it, the dragons for even coming in the first fucking place-

 

    She scowled and dropped her chin, staring listlessly out from the keep.

 

    In the dull flat light from the barely visible sun, she almost didn't see the tiny shape, moving down the road towards the keep. Vex noticed it when it tripped, falling face-first onto the dirt, then getting back up and continuing at a limping pace.

 

    The ranger straightened up immediately, squinting down at the shape for another moment before she sucked in a sharp breath.

 

    A few feet away, Jarrett cocked his head to one side, and his hand went to his crossbow. "Something wrong?"

 

    Vex pushed herself away from the wall, rounded on her heels, and with a gleeful expression that clearly startled Jarrett, she lunged forward and grabbed him by the front of the shirt, flat out mugging him on the mouth. The moment she pulled back from the bewildered guard, she said breathlessly, "Open the front doors! Now!"

 

    "What is-"

 

    She was already running backwards, towards the stairs going down to the courtyard. Over her shoulder she shouted, "Just do it, Jarrett!!"

 

    A moment later she burst down the stairs, nearly falling and breaking her neck at least once. A giddiness that she hadn't felt in weeks soared in her heart, paired with such an intense hope it felt like her chest would burst. Vex practically launched herself into the courtyard, running towards the keep as the doors behind her slowly started to creak their way open.

 

    Near the garden, Pike and Keyleth were starting to gather the remaining refugees, Gilmore and the empress among them. All of them flinched as they heard a sudden Vex voice almost shrieking across the courtyard.

 

    "SCANLAN!"

 

\--------------------

 

    Vax heard his sister's voice from outside. Beside him, Grog let out a grunt of surprise, nearly dropping the bundle of supplies he was shoving into the bag of holding. Across the way, coming out of a hall, Vax saw a confused Percy emerge, hair still ruffled from sleep, glasses slightly askew.

 

    And lagging behind the gunslinger, a half-dead looking bard was walking slowly. Vax saw Scanlan's eyebrows furrow as he started to step into the courtyard, and as Vex's shout came through the air.

 

    "SCANLAN!!"

 

    The gnome halted warily, looking across the open space with still-bleary eyes, not yet adjusted to the light starting to creep into Greyskull. "What?" he muttered as Vex ran towards him, out of breath and hunched over, hands on her knees.

 

    "On the-" she panted heavily, slowly standing up and alarming all four of them with the sheer excitement on her face. "Outside the - on the road-"

 

    Only now did Scanlan glance behind Vex, and see the keep's doors opening. They finally stopped, and stayed open just enough to maybe let a few people through. For a moment, nothing happened. That strange giddy grin was still plastered on Vex' face.

 

    Then, Scanlan saw a small figure slowly step through into the keep. His breath hitched in his lungs.

 

    Before Vax, Percy, Vex, and Grog's eyes, Scanlan vanished. A purple doorway opened for a fraction of a second behind the bard, and in a heartbeat the gnome disappeared through it, appearing again in the middle of the courtyard.

 

    As he did, they each felt a smile take shape on their faces.

 

\--------------------

 

    Scanlan didn't dare breathe as he went through his Dimension Door. He didn't want to waste a single second getting to the keep doors, he didn't want to stand in doubt and fading hope for one _second_ longer than he had to-

 

    He stood, shaking, as the figure came through the doors, and they closed shut. He saw them clutching their right arm, bleeding from deep cuts and hanging limply at their side. He saw bruises and small cuts all over the rest of their body.

 

    Saw tousled, short-cropped hair, and freckles as she raised her head up. She stopped moving as soon as she saw him.

 

    He started walking forward, slowly. His heart was thundering in his chest, his eyes wide and probably blurred over with tears that dared not fall just yet.

 

    Her mouth opened, then clamped shut. Scanlan saw her nostrils flare, and her shoulders shake. He couldn't tell what kind of expression was on her face, it was so covered in dirt and traces of blood from a cut on her forehead. She stood still as a statue as he walked closer... but she didn't retreat. Didn't take a step back for every step he took to get closer to her.

 

    Her lip trembled.

 

    Scanlan stopped, no more than six feet away from her. Time seemed to stand still.

 

    "...Kaylie."

 

    That was when he saw her face morph into pain, and fear, and a faint glitter of tears shone through the grime.

 

    "Father," she whispered.

 

    Scanlan ran forward, all but slamming into her and wrapping his arms around her as tightly as he could without hurting her arm. He heard a weak half-sob as they collided, and he wasn't sure if it came from Kaylie, or from him. He felt her shiver, and her good arm snaked around his back, fingers digging into his shirt as she buried her face into his shoulder. His nose brushed against her hair, and he felt his hands tremble as they locked around her and made sure that she was really there, he wasn't dreaming-

 

    "You're alive," Scanlan practically babbled. "I didn't - I went looking everywhere, I know you didn't want me to, but I couldn't - I couldn't - _you're alive."_

 

_ _

 

    He felt Kaylie nod into his clavicle, still shivering. She seemed far more stoic and held-together than her father, and what else could he expect? Even from their few days of knowing each other, he knew she was probably stronger than him. Maybe with his words he could dance around conflict, fool foes for long enough to stay alive. But she'd stayed alive, and he could assume she'd done so on her own, for so much of her life, and probably after the dragons attacked.

 

    ...she'd been alone. He'd left her that way. Maybe it wasn't deliberate, but still. He'd walked out, he'd missed so much, and thanks to that he couldn't lost her, and never gotten a chance to prove that he deserved her love. Her respect was a little much to ask for, Scanlan knew that much, but... he couldn't live with himself if his daughter hated him for all the rest of their lives.

 

    But she was _here._ She was here, in his arms, no longer missing.

 

    Scanlan was so fucking lucky. He'd missed _years_. He'd missed holding her as a baby, watching her grow through childhood. But he was still allowed to have this moment.

 

    Sarenrae preserve him - not likely to happen, but he could still hope - how could he have missed out on so _much?_ He knew why, there was no way he could've known Sybil was pregnant, but maybe if he'd just stayed a little bit longer... who knows who he'd be today, actually. Who knew if he would be part of Vox Machina, part of their family, if he hadn't been so quick to jump ship on the golden-haired mother of his child? Scanlan also knew, with no small amount of regret, that there was no going back and changing anything.

 

    He was just lucky enough to be given a chance at all.

 

    Pulling back a few inches, he rubbed a thumb over Kaylie's cheek and swept his eyes over the top half of her body, landing on her arm. Pursing his shaking lips, he reached down and gently wrapped his fingers around Kaylie's wrist. She gave a muffled hiss and wince, but she stayed still as Scanlan mumbled a few quick bardic rhymes under his breath. A hum rippled through the air between them, and a pale light ebbed from where their skin made contact.

 

    The Healing Words spell took hold slowly, but surely, knitting the badly torn skin and muscle back together all the way down Kaylie's arm. In the back of his mind, Scanlan knew he should let Pike or Keyleth take a look at Kaylie's arm, but for the moment he just wanted to make sure the bleeding stopped. Watching her face in the corner of his eye, he saw her expression soften, and some of the pain faded from her eyes.

 

    Scanlan dropped his hand from her arm, and she rubbed her palm over the now mostly-healed skin, still mottled by dirt and dried blood. Her chest rose and fell with a sigh, and she looked at her father with a mud-smudged smile. "...thank you."

 

    He nodded, cracking a weak grin, before the uneasy words tumbled from his lips. "What happened to you?? Where's Dranzel?"

 

    Kaylie shrugged, wincing against the soreness that still clearly remained in her bruised body. "We were heading out of town when the..." She frowned, nursing the lightly accented words on her lips as if she still didn't quite believe what had happened. "When the dragons attacked. The white one came down over the road... we scattered. I hid in the woods for a few days before I - before I thought-"

 

    "Before you came here," Scanlan finished for her. She nodded slowly, and the bard gestured to her arm. "What about that?"

 

    "The dragon," Kaylie intoned quietly. "It swooped down at us. Its tail threw me and scraped me up pretty well, then the damn thing froze Zed. I don't know what happened to Dranzel and the others." Her tongue drifted over her cut lower lip, and she leaned to the left, glancing over Scanlan's shoulder at the open courtyard, the refugees gathered in the garden, and the rest of Vox Machina staring in shock, relief, and joy at the two gnomes. Kaylie then looked back to Scanlan, an uncertain smile trying to take shape on her face.

 

    "I had hoped this place would survive," she whispered. Her exhaustion was palpable in the air. "I tried to come back to Emon, only to find it... well," she sighed. "Dragons work quickly, don't they?"

 

    Scanlan nodded, eyes still wide and fixed on his daughter's face, making sure she was really physically there, and not an illusion that could disappear the moment he stopped concentrating on her. Beneath his gaze, Kaylie averted hers, looking at the ground and shifting uneasily on her feet. Her good arm went behind her head, her dirty fingers scratching the back of her neck.

 

    "I..." she began hesitantly, a hint of a rasp to her voice. "I'm... glad you're still alive, Scanlan. _F_ _ather_ ," she added after a heavy pause. The uncertainty in her voice pried at Scanlan's ears, itching like the strange, undeserved sound of her calling him 'father'. Fishing through his mind for something else to say, he found himself drawing a blank, his tongue sitting in his mouth thick with nervous reluctance.

 

    Kaylie stood before him for a few moments more, and they stared at each other in silence, each taking in the bags under the other's eyes and the redness that betrayed the presence of tears. The sound of footsteps pounding up behind him coaxed Scanlan from his stupor, and as Kaylie's eyes drifted over his shoulder, he turned to find Pike sprinting towards them, the others trailing behind more slowly.

 

    As soon as she reached them, her eyes fell to Kaylie's arm and went wide. Without so much as a word, she shouldered past Scanlan and placed her hands on Kaylie's forearm, a warm glow radiating from her fingers. Kaylie shied back reflexively, but remained still as Pike's far more powerful healing magic repaired the rest of the injury to her arm, mending it until there was nothing left but dried blood and a few faint scars.

 

    "Are you alright??" Pike asked breathlessly. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

 

    Kaylie shook her head. "No, I'm... I'm fine. A few scrapes and bruises, nothing I can't handle." Her gaze lingered on Pike for a second before she shared a momentary look with Scanlan, and he thought he saw a flicker of suspicion in her eyes, but it quickly faded to curiosity, and then to something that resembled understanding even as she looked away. "Is it..." She bit her lip, sighing through clenched teeth. Scanlan felt there were still traces of animosity for him lingering in her heart, but at the moment he didn't care. "Would it be possible for me to stay here?"

 

    Pike's brow furrowed. "No," was the first thing she said, and as the younger gnome's eyes went wide, the cleric hurried to add, "we've done all we can and it isn't safe her anymore. All of us are leaving, including the last of the refugees. You can come with us!"

 

    Pursing her lips, Kaylie looked once again to the garden and at the handful of bedraggled Emon citizens, waiting to be ferried to some other location. "...where are you going?" she asked, looking back to Pike and Scanlan.

 

    "We're going to Vasselheim," Scanlan answered, "but all of the refugees we've found are in Whitestone. No dragons there." His eyes flicked to the white-haired gnome beside him. "Pike, were you...?"

 

    She nodded. "I'm staying with Gilmore."

 

    Scanlan looked at Kaylie, the first hopeful smile to be seen in weeks from the bard taking shape on his face. "You can stay in Whitestone with Pike. If you want." Was that too controlling, too insistent? He knew it wasn't his place to tell Kaylie what to do, but she'd wanted to stay in the keep, but they were leaving, so the only other option was to have her come to Whitestone with the other refugees. She understood that, didn't she? Scanlan fought off the urge to fidget as she stayed silent.

 

    He couldn't lose her again, he _couldn't._

 

    Kaylie let out a sigh and cocked her head to the side slightly. "...I've never been to Whitestone," she finally said.

 

    Scanlan felt his heart swell inside his chest. Kaylie was staying. She was going to Whitestone, she'd be safe at last. It pained him to know that Vox Machina couldn't stay there for long, and he still didn't know if she wanted him to be around - their embrace, like their first, could have just been too many emotions crammed into two small gnomes - but _gods,_ she was going to be safe.

 

    She still looked uncertain, but Scanlan couldn't blame her at all. "Shall we.... shall we go, then?" she hazarded. Pike, with her hand still clasped around Kaylie's arm, quickly nodded and began leading Kaylie towards the garden. Only now did Scanlan notice upon turning around that the rest of Vox Machina had been hovering about ten feet away, eavesdropping on the three gnomes. He saw ecstatic smiles on most of their faces; Vex, Keyleth, Grog. Percy's smile was more subdued, but no less present on his face. Vax seemed to have a half-smirk going on, as if he knew this would happen.

 

    As Kaylie and Pike passed by Trinket, the bear gave a low grunt and nudged his head against Kaylie's shoulder. She was almost pushed to the side, and gave the bear a puzzled glance. She lingered for a moment before the looming animal before she very quickly reached out and gave him a scratch between the ears. She then kept heading towards the garden, not looking back at Scanlan.

 

    He didn't care.

 

    Scanlan all but skipped up past the rest of his clustered friends - family might be the word to suit them more appropriately - in pursuit of Kaylie and Pike. As he did, he felt them swarm around him, and Grog gave him a powerful smack on his back, nearly throwing him off his feet.

 

    "You back, buddy?" the goliath eagerly pressed. Scanlan gave him an odd look, not quite following Grog's train of thought. At the expectant silence around him, he finally started to grasp the meaning to the barbarian's words. He'd almost been gone, just like Kaylie, just like the city and so many of its citizens. He was so close to turning into nothing, just some bones and a clever tongue and quick fingers to cast a spell; no smiles or songs. _Almost._

 

    But Kaylie was back, and she'd brought Scanlan back, too.

 

    "Yeah, Grog," Scanlan answered, painting a broad smile on his face. "I'm back."

 

    "See, I knew it'd work out," Vax said, trying to sound cocky.

 

    Percy's eyebrows knit together. "No, you didn't."

 

    "Sure I did!" the rogue countered. "She's a Shorthalt, they're _impossible_ to get rid of."

 

    Scanlan listened to them bicker for a few moments more, before Vex clocked her twin on the back of the head and snuffed out the argument before it could escalate. They followed Pike and Kaylie to the tree, where Gilmore and the other refugees were waiting. Keyleth swept her eyes over the lot of them and went to stand in front of the tree she'd cultivated in the center of the garden.

 

    As magic snapped to life between her fingers, and a portal began to take shape within the trunk of the tree, Scanlan kept his eyes on Kaylie and Vex and Pike and Grog and Vax and Keyleth and Percy.

 

    It didn't matter that they were leaving. The hollowness was gone, and the people around him finally felt like home again.

 

\--------------------

 

    Just before they went to Vasselheim, Scanlan spoke with Kaylie again. For the time being, she was staying with Pike, adapting to life in Whitestone as effectively as Scanlan expected she would. Pike gave them privacy, and in what little time he had before he was supposed to join the rest of the team and seek out help in the city across the sea, Scanlan fumbled over what to say to his daughter.

 

    "I know I told you not to look for me," she said after a few tentative seconds of silence between them.

 

    Scanlan's face pinched. "I know, but-"

 

    She averted her gaze, interrupting him before he could make any headway in an excuse. "I'm glad you did. I wasn't making myself easy to find, but still, knowing that you looked anyway..." Kaylie shrugged. "Pike told me you were... distraught."

 

    "Of course I was," he blurted automatically. Kaylie paused and closed her mouth, scratching her fingers through her short brown hair. When she stayed quiet, Scanlan took a daring step forward, continuing quietly, "Kaylie, much as Pike and Grog and Vax and myself and all of Vox Machina have become, in a way, a family... you're the only family by blood that I have left. That I know of."

 

    Kaylie made a show of rolling her eyes.

 

    "I know it may not be my place to say this, and gods know I don't deserve it," Scanlan said, "but you're my _daughter_ , Kaylie, and and I can't _stand_ the thought of losing you. I know I only just met you, I know I wasn't there for all your life, I know you hate me for that, and I know you probably can't forgive me, but just... know that if you're ever in danger, I will always help you. You're my family, my child, and even though I missed out on so much I still feel as if you are a part of me. You fit in my arms, I feel like you always should have, and I will not soon stop regretting that I didn't know about you sooner, Kaylie."

 

    He toyed with another set of words for a moment, and then let them spill out, because _really_ , what did he have to lose at this point?

 

    "I love you."

 

    The faint chuckle from Kaylie unsettled Scanlan; he couldn't tell what it meant, at first. But she was the one who stepped forward, gently placing her palm over his hand, looking at him in mild confusion and relief and gratitude and lingering frustration and maybe, _just maybe,_ a bit of love as well.

 

    "You're not as much a scoundrel as I thought you'd be, Scanlan Shorthalt," Kaylie said.

 

    It wasn't 'I love you, too'. But Scanlan still couldn't help but smile.

 

    The bard leaned forward, gently pressing his lips to his daughter's forehead. Ever so slightly, she dipped her head forward into the kiss, closing her eyes for a moment. They remain there until Scanlan pulled away, a loving smile on his lips - the kind usually reserved for Pike, but more fatherly than romantic. But what did he know of being a father? Nothing, really. All he knew was it hurt so much thinking she was dead, and he would never have forgiven himself if she'd died before he could mend the rift between them.

 

    "Will you be here when I come back?" he asked hopefully.

 

    Kaylie snorted. "Trust me, I don't plan on going back to Emon... or Westrun." She nodded. "I think I'll stay here." She pulled her hand away from his, and then prodded him in the chest. "Try to do your best not to die. And... good luck on saving the world, or whatever it is you plan on doing."

 

    He knew his friends were waiting on him, and if he lingered much longer, he knew it would be just that much harder to leave. But unlike last time, and unlike the past few weeks, leaving and going didn't hurt.

 

    "Until next time, Kaylie," Scanlan said with a smile.

 

    She shook her head, somewhat amused, but she was smiling, too.

 

    "Until next time... Father."


End file.
